


Swain's Cake

by NeroKrohe



Series: TribeTwelve Except The Collective Are Weird [1]
Category: Tribe Twelve
Genre: Cake, Combat, GOD HELP US, M/M, Shenanigans, hungry creature, omae wa mou shindeiru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeroKrohe/pseuds/NeroKrohe
Summary: This was a bad idea.





	Swain's Cake

For a member of the Collective, human needs such as sleep, hunger and bathroom breaks are irrelevant. Why rest your eyes when time is but your bitch? It’s not uncommon, however, for one to indulge in any human activities.

Although he had forsaken any human needs long ago, Swain was bored.

 

It was a Monday evening and The Lover stood outside of 7-Eleven. His walk over was…awkward, with all those people staring at him. Hell, he had to teleport away after a cop stopped him for why he looked like an idiot with a mask. Never again.

He stepped inside and browsed the aisles. There must be something he would enjoy.

A-ha! There! In the corner! A large Victoria sponge cake! Though nobody could see it, he was licking his lips to the thought of biting into the sweet jelly and cream nestled between two halves of soft sponge.

Swain teleported back to the entrance of Victor Park, cake in hands. What, you thought he’d have the money to pay for it? I’m not even sure if any of the Collective have actual jobs. Like, picture Deadhead working at a drive-thu. That is a stupid idea, forget about it.

I said forget about.

 

In just 20 steps, Swain will finally be able to indulge himself with cake. He looked down at it, smiling as if it was a baby he had brought into this world.

A baby that was stolen by a Nazi skeleton. Deadhead pushed his fellow Collective member over and ran through the entrance to the boardwalk.

“DEADHEAD YOU BITCH!” Swain yelled. Nobody gets between him and his cake.

 

It took hours, but Swain found the thief. He was hunched beneath a tree, face and…hood…covered in cake…

“WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!”

Deadhead looked up and shrugged. “I was hungry.”

“YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A STOMACH! ADMIT IT, YOU ATE IT TO SPITE ME!”

“What are you going to do, Sebastian?”

Silence.

Swain unleashed his Lover’s screech as he lunged at the Nationalist, punching the skeleton over and over. Deadhead struggled, eventually gripping his attacker by the wrist and rolled on top of him. Of course, Swain wasn’t having any of that shit and unleashed his WWE-grade wrestling skills onto the bony bastard. Throughout the Collective’s realm, the sound of the two Germans fighting each other over cake was all anyone could hear.

The Observer looked down at the scene from the watchtower, shaking his head. What did he do to deserve such challenging colleagues?

And why are you still picturing Deadhead working at a drive-thu? Seriously, stop it. Stop it now.


End file.
